A Billie Story
1. Welcome to my new fan-fiction page; I hope you will all enjoy.
2. I deeply believe and hope this fan-fiction is nothing like those you have ever read about Billie or Charmed. You will certainly think that some passages are rushed, and that others don't make sense at all – or so I think (laughs), but trust me, it'll all make sense in the end (winks).
3. The chapters are very, very short – about one Word page, one Word page and a half. Some will be a few lines longer/shorter than the others but most of the short story will be dealt in these very short chapters. But it doesn't mean there won't be a lot of short chapters (winks).
Just after vanquishing her sister by self-defense, Billie is overcome by her guilt and comes back on the place where it all happened – but what she finds there is more than just peace of mind or forgiveness: a new foe attacks and brings her where it all begun …
I don't own Charmed¸ yadda, yadda, yadda: don't sue me.
All Chapters: (Unless stated otherwise)
Written By: Me (Térence)
Edited By: Abby
Chapter One: All Hollow's Eve
After vanquishing her sister, the guilt drives Billie to go back to the scene of the murder of which she is the culprit. Emotions and memories flow and mix into her and leave her at the mercy of a new enemy.
It all begun on the night of the dramatic events known to all of us as the Ultimate Battle. After the Charmed Ones had left Magic School to deal with their own future, Billie, who was supposed to do just the same – though for what future? she asked herself –, had stepped back in the middle of the room the Battle had taken place in, right before the round, stony white altar, and a new set of tears and memories both good and bad had flown through her.
She saw herself and her sister in beautiful dresses at Paige's wedding, then their bonding in Phoebe's old room after she had saved Christy from the cave she was brought up in. The next thing coming to her mind was that dreadful Halloween night when she was only five and Christy was kidnapped by a demon, leaving a slight, childish fear of pumpkins for years in Billie's mind. The last collection of memories to reach Billie's subconscious was Dumain, sweetly talking to her and her sister to gain their trust then warning the Triad of the Charmed Ones' coming – ultimately leading to Billie vanquishing Christy with her very own fireball. And then she felt the world around her falter and she fell in a swirl of lights and cries from another time …
Billie opened her eyes; tears had dried on her cheeks from her crying of the night's events. She was lying on the floor of the Magic School room where she had killed her sister. She saw heavy black curtains hanging before the large windows and went to them to open them, hoping maybe to dissolve the darkness in her heart by lightening the room's – but still it was night outside, so her passing out mustn't have been any longer than a few minutes, maybe an hour.
Her back hurt from the lying on the ground anyway, but no chair whatsoever was visible in the dark room. Sighing, she tried her hardest to concentrate on her power, visioning a pretty, comfy chair in which she could sit … but her projection was out, her soul was too torn, her mind too detached in order to avoid a breakdown, that she couldn't control any of her magical gifts – which she knew could be very problematic should a demon attack for whatever reason of theirs.
Resigned, Billie let herself slide down the cold wall, making sure her back was straight against the stone so as to somewhat ease the pain. But barely had she reached the ground that a petrifying sound, a voice indeed, both heinous and inquisitive, murmuring Billie's name, echoed in Billie's head making her jump back up onto her feet.
"Who's there?" she inquired, looking at the far-most corner, the darkest of all. She thought she saw a shadow moving back there and slowly stepped forwards, looking backwards from time to time to check nothing had crept out behind her to assault her.
But there was no creature of the dark that came out of shades neither from behind or from the far-most corner, as she witnessed when she reached it. But looks can be deceiving, and though her sister had proved it to her not long ago, Billie had still been caught in the game: she felt more than she heard the movement behind her, and turned round in time to see a dark-cloaked figure standing there, a white hand held out in her direction, ready to get a grab on her – and it did.
To Abby: Without whom this story would never have been started,
To you readers: For keeping it alive only by reading thi